Scandalous!
by Wishful Thinker
Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him? EPOV
1. The Sorbet Scandal

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

**Chapter One: Scandalous Sorbet**

"You . . . would not have me?"

"I would not."

He stared at her, perplexed in the extreme. All his nervous energy for this moment silenced abruptly by her direct refusal. She fidgeted under his gaze, rocking slightly on her feet, her dress skirts rustling distractingly.

Her breaths seemed slightly faster than normal, her cheeks flushed a healthy pink. How he was entranced by her even as she denied him he did not understand. Her dark eyes darted around his face, everywhere but his eyes.

"If you'll excuse me, sir." She curved into a fitful curtsy and stepped away.

He could only nod as she fled the room.

_ Six months later_

Edward hated garden parties. It was all pastel fluff and rose gardens, full of tittering socialites and tiny sweets. Worst of all it was often hot. And humid.

He wouldn't be here except his mother had insisted. Ever since the disastrous Fall Ball at his parents' estate months ago he had refrained from any party where Isabella Swan might be in attendance. He had been so successful in his cowardice—though he called it aversion—that he had caught only the fleetest of glimpses of the girl.

Now here he was, at a garden party standing outside in the heat paranoid that the next giggling debutante wandering by might be her. He could feel the small hairs at his nape curling with the humidity. He desperately wanted to remove his jacket and obtain a damp cloth.

Spotting his mother unescorted across the lawn Edward approached her. He was not mingling, per say, but had been wandering through Mrs. Stanley's primroses to appear as if he was.

"Mother." He greeted, noticing for the first time the small glass she held in one hand.

"Edward, my dear, have you tried this wonderful sorbet?"

His interest was piqued. An iced treat was rare enough, but on such a hot day he half believed it a mirage. And if he wasn't mistaken . . .

"Is that strawberry?"

Esme hmmed as she scooped a dainty silver spoon into the treat. Savoring the bite, she responded, "It is."

Edward nodded as if there had been a question, "where is it?"

At this Esme shifted her eyes to look at him, enjoying the predictable way her son was entranced by her dessert.

"It's inside. It's much too hot to store it outside, of course. Go on in, son, Mrs. Stanley has a table set up with it inside the rear parlor."

Edward left at that, thanking his mother.

Suddenly this party was looking up.

He greeted the guests he passed crossing the patio, stopping for a moment to direct Miss Webber toward his father, and entered the house. It was not much cooler in here, but the humidity was lower and the shade was nice even if the breeze was gone. He'd been to the Stanley's a handful of times and so knew the basic layout of the house. There was a small parlor near the rear of the house, right by the kitchen.

Reaching the parlor he did indeed find a table set up with glass cups and silver spoons arranged artfully around two large covered bowls surrounded by ice chunks on a silver tray. The cold radiating from the piles of ice made him want to scoop some up and relieve his overheating, but he fought the urge and focused on the covered bowls.

Peeking in to one revealed an orange colored sorbet, peach perhaps. The second was the strawberry.

Edward was just reaching for a cup when a faint hissing sound drew his attention. It was followed by a rustling, and seemed to be coming from behind a closed door to his right.

Curiosity peaked, Edward approached as silently as he could. Sure enough, he could hear the strange noises even better from here.

A thought grew in his mind that perhaps some of the guests had nipped into a room for privacy, and he was just turning away when he heard it. A pained whimper.

Well, that changed things.

Without another thought in his head Edward pushed the door open and stormed into the room.

"What is going on in he—" his voice caught and choked on the 'r' as the sight before him dawned.

Bella Swan was sitting in this room. Her wide eyes stared up at him in shock from her position on a small bench in the storage room.

But it wasn't her eyes Edward was looking at, huge though they were in her face at the moment.

No, Edward's eyes were focused on entirely different areas.

Her skirts were hitched up, higher than he'd ever seen anyone's skirts, one pale, dainty leg crossed over the other, one calf laying across the opposite knee, her underclothes pushed aside to reveal flesh from the knee down.

One hand rested lightly on her own thigh, but the other, oh, that was were Edward's stare stayed.

In her right hand Bella held a large ice cube, much like the ones cooling the sorbet just outside this room.

Only she was holding it against the side of her neck.

It was dripping. Slow drips forming a current over her clavicle and staining the front of her bodice dark between her breasts.

Edward took a jerking step forward, called to the sight before him by everything but his brain.

He was right in front of her when a clamor drew his attention back to the door.

"Dear god!"

Mrs. Newton stood at the door, one hand above her heart the other over her mouth as if to muffle the noise she was making.

Edward watched as if through water as more people popped up behind her, drawn by her exclamations and frenzy.

His movements were slowed as if by honey as he turned back to Bella. She was frantically righting herself, the ice cube long dropped but the red mark still on her skin, her bodice still stained with wet.

She attempted to stand, only to fall with a yelp.

Edward caught her, of course, ever the gentleman.

His first coherent thought as he righted her was as loud as if Mrs. Newton herself was yelling it.

This looks _very_ bad.

The garden party dispersed rapidly following the incident. The guests likely running home to regale the rest of the neighborhoods with what had been seen. Bella Swan having to be carried out of a broom closet, rumpled and with marks on her neck! It was certainly scandal enough to keep the town atwitter for weeks.

Edward found himself lingering at the Stanleys, though his host had to be consoled elsewhere. He sat with his mother and sister Alice, while his father Carlisle checked over Bella in the study. Which was on the other side of the house.

He wanted to scoff at the ridiculous notion that he would be so arduous as to attack the girl as his own father tended her wounds. But derision wasn't the reaction he was experiencing.

This was bad, very bad. Perhaps not for him, honestly, though he might be called a rogue or some such minor offense at the next party. But for Bella, this was huge.

The way these things spread, her virtue would be in question by dinner time. If it wasn't already. Her father was an admirable man, but even he would not be able to save her from this disgrace.

The pieces were falling in to place for Edward. After the initial clamor, Miss Angela Webber had appeared, the usually calm and collected girl visibly on the edge of tears.

Bella had twisted her ankle, the girl said, and was only sitting down to cool it. Angela had been with her, but had gone to fetch Carlisle.

That explained the disarrayed skirts and the lowered stocking. It even explained the ice, and Edward himself had thought of cooling himself with a piece.

Surely all those skirts and petticoats were even worse in the heat?

He could not get the image of her flushed face and rumpled state, the water drifting down her neck, out of his head.

So even as he understood the innocence of her situation, he could not escape his wanton enjoyment of it, all the same.

The door opened and Carlisle joined his family. He had a grim look on his face.

"Carlisle?" Esme questioned, so much in the one word.

"Miss Swan is being taken home." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Her ankle is indeed twisted, though the ice took some of the swelling down." A small tug on the corner of his lip was as close to smiling as he could manage. "It seems after all my visits she's nearly ready to simply doctor herself."

They sat quietly for a moment, none sure what to say.

"Her reputation is ruined." Alice finally spoke, pointing out the uncomfortable obvious.

Edward grimaced at her words. Frustration making him short. "She didn't even do anything!" He stood suddenly, needing to walk his energy out. Tugging a hand through his hair he said in a pained voice, "if I hadn't opened that door, everything would be fine."

"Or if Mrs. Newton could keep her mouth shut for once until she actually knows what's going on." Alice added harshly. She was not terribly fond of their acquaintance, having been the brunt of her exaggerated comments before.

"Perhaps," Carlisle said, rising himself. "We should be getting home. I expect we may have visitors this evening."

With that the Cullen family filtered out of the Stanley estate and took their carriage home. It was a quiet ride all round.

Edward wondered how he had managed to make this most recent interaction with Bella Swan the worst yet. He had really thought that impossible.

_Author's Note: New story! I'm planning to update this one about once a week, maybe more frequently if the chapters continue to be easy to write. Please review and let me know what you think!_


	2. Repercussions and Resolutions

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

**Chapter Two: Repercussions and Resolutions**

The Denali family was the first to come that evening. They were close enough acquaintances that they hardly waited five minutes on arriving to ask about what Edward was beginning to call 'the Sorbet Scandal' in his mind.

The Cullens, for their part, did their best to set the record straight on the innocence of all involved. Looking incredibly disappointed, the Denalis left with a promise to spread the truth.

They were not the last gossip mongers to visit, but they were the only ones Edward was able to interact with even half politely.

A week passed, and the story was holding strong. Edward stopped going out with his male friends after one, James, congratulated Edward on 'conquering the Swan' as he so stupidly put it.

He then started a comment that began with "I've been trying to get her to—," and ended with Edward's fist in his face.

He saw nothing of Bella.

After two weeks he begged Alice to visit her, though the two girls were only the vaguest of acquaintances. She left mid-morning and Edward paced the library awaiting her return until just before dinner time.

"Oh it's awful Edward!" She exclaimed first thing. "That cow Newton has been telling lies, embellishing what she saw until half the town is now convinced Bella was caught in flagrante in the garden at this point! She hasn't been able to leave the house at all!"

Alice's report went down from there. It was obvious to Edward, as he listening to his sister's distressed chattering, that the two girls had somehow made themselves friends, even in this circumstance.

While Alice spoke, Esme had come in to summon them to dinner and had listened with Edward to the shocks Alice relayed.

As they rose to go to the dining room, however, Alice separated to go to her room first and Esme turned to Edward.

"You know, Edward, there is only one way I can see Miss Swan coming out of this disgrace with her dignity."

She turned then, leaving her son stopped in the hallway to mull over her words.

The very next day Edward donned his best suit and spoke to Carlisle. Together they set off to the Swans house.

He had not, personally, intended for his father to join him in this visit, but Carlisle had insisted.

"Chief Swan may shoot you on sight at this point, at least if I'm there I can tend the wound while you say your piece."

Edward laughed despite himself.

As it turned out, Charlie Swan did not shoot Edward. Instead the men retired to his study and he poured them all a brandy.

"I thought you might be by earlier to tell the truth." Charlie said, surprising both Cullens.

Edward grimaced and looked into his glass. "Well sir, to tell the truth . . . I asked Bella to marry me last year. She turned me down."

His pride was still suffering from that near fatal wound.

Resolutely Edward brought his eyes up to see Charlie's surprised face. His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. Carlisle was much the same. Though he had suspected something had happened between the two last fall, he had certainly not expected this.

"You asked my daughter to marry you last year?" Charlie repeated, almost as if he could not believe what Edward had said. "Skipped a few steps there, huh kid?"

The younger man winced at that, evidently less over his heartbreak and imprudence than even he thought. "I apologize, sir. It was . . . rash of me not to speak to you first." He glanced at his own father, "either of you."

At this Charlie just sighed, "I suppose you've been punished enough as it stands."

This Edward sincerely agreed with.

Edward paced anxiously back and forth in the Swan's front sitting room. His father watched from the settee, admirably hiding a smirk behind a raised teacup. Mrs. Swan sat across from him chatting politely. With a childish huff he all but threw himself into a chair and attempted to sit still.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he heard a door creak open and felt eyes upon him. He hesitated to look up.

Across from him, Carlisle and Renee continued chatting on, seeming oblivious.

Raising his eyes, Edward met the dark gaze of Bella. She was standing prone in the hallway outside her father's study with an unreadable expression on her face.

He stood, unsure, but she turned without a word and disappeared down the hall, a moment later he heard her footsteps ascending stairs.

A subtle throat clearing drew Edward's attention back to where he now realized Charlie Swan stood in the study doorway.

Edward felt his gut clench at the expression on the man's face. Charlie was frowning, his dark eyes—eyes so like his daughter's—were watching Edward closely. With a quick, almost jerky stride the man approached.

The other adults in the room had grown silent now, their polite conversation ended and both turned toward Charlie.

"Chief Swan . . ." Edward began, unsure where his sentence was going even as he started it.

"Edward." He flinched at the brusque tone, "is there anything else about your relationship with my daughter that I should know?"

His nerves were overruled by genuine confusion this time, and having no idea what the man was asking for, could only answer a quiet "No, sir."

If possible, Charlie frowned more. Edward darted a glance at his father and Renee, both of whom looked just as confused as he did.

Charlie began again, his tone harsher than Edward had ever heard it. "My daughter has asked that I refuse your proposal."

Renee's gasp of shock was barely audible to Edward, concerned as he was suddenly over his ability to keep his stomach inside his body as it attempted to drop out. Blindly, he gripped at the chair back beside him, fingers digging into the rough brocade.

"I am inclined to trust her judgement." Charlie finished.

"Please," Edward begged, "can I speak with her?"

Charlie paused, his gruff face giving way to calculation. He studied Edward's earnest expression.

"No," he said finally, "not today."

Edward didn't listen to anything else. His father stepped in to bid their goodbyes, going so far as to hand Edward his hat directly.

It was as they were leaving that a hand on his forearm drew his attention to the worried eyes of Renee Swan.

"I will speak with her. Do not lose hope."

Her quiet words stayed with him all the way home.

SSSSSSSS

_Author's Note: Poor Edward, that's twice now she's turned down his proposal. Will he go for a third time?_


	3. Pessimism and Persistence

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

**Chapter Three: **

It was three days later that he saw Bella Swan.

It was a tense meeting, each sitting formally in the Swan family garden. The weather was somewhat favorable, a cloudy sky provided a break from the season's heat, though humidity was high and the air was thick with the promise of rain. Wind, uneven and occasionally worked up into strong gusts, brushed through the lush trees overhead and provided much of the soundtrack.

They had exchanged polite greetings, busied themselves with getting tea and commenting on the tempestuous weather. Now they sat silent, and it was not comfortable.

Edward was nervous. He was busy observing, watching the way Bella spent time looking at her tea, the window through which Renee sat in the sunroom, even the flowering bush to his right. But never at him, she had looked at him very little in the twenty or so minutes since his arrival.

Bella cleared her throat and observed the bush intently. "How is your sister?"

"She is well." Edward sipped his tea, eyes steady on her over the cup's rim. "She has begun preparing for the Mallory's ball."

The grimace on her face made him smile.

"Already? That's nearly two months away."

He nodded. "She says she's determined to—and I quote—knock Miss Mallory on her flat face."

Bella snorted, then shot a hand to cover her rapidly blushing face.

"Well better her than me. Though I'm surprised she even wants to go after last year." She paused, fiddling with her teacup nervously but continued before Edward could ask what she had meant. "That's one thing good out of all this. . ." she waved her hand around them, eyes flashing to his for the first time since they'd come outside, ". . . mess. I'm fairly certain I won't be receiving an invitation this year from the Mallory's."

"You could come with me." Edward felt his face flush immediately from his thoughtless invitation. "As my . . . guest." He ducked his own eyes away now, missing as she turned to him.

There was an awkward pause before she finally responded.

"No thank you, Edward." Her voice was quiet, he noted, though he had to guess at her expression as he kept his eyes trained firmly on the foliage. For a long moment neither of them spoke. His offer and her rejection both taking them to other, similar issues.

He wondered absently if there was anything he could get her to say yes to at this point.

The sound of rustling skirts had him peeking at her from the corner of his eye to see her shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"I should enjoy the perks of my shaming after all," she smirked slightly, eyes flicking to his face for a second. "And it is had to consider missing a full night with the Mallory's as anything but a perk."

Edward managed a smile at that, though it twisted his face unnaturally. If he was thinking clearly he would have agreed with her assessment of the upcoming ball and it's true merits. All he heard was her refusal of his company.

He finished the remaining tea and bid his goodbye.

_A short one, I know, but finals are finally over and I expect to get back on track with the once a week updates from here on out!_


	4. Strategies

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

**Chapter Four: Strategies**

Edward kept his visits to the Swan household religiously. He arrived precisely at 2 o'clock and always left before dinner. Each time he brought with him a small gift, as was polite, though it ranged from the traditional albeit boring flowers and candies to the more inspired—small gifts such as a book he thought Bella might enjoy and, two weeks in, a carved chess set. That gift had been a milestone in his visits.

The idea had come quickly during a stilted conversation wherein he'd been attempting to gage her interest in parlor games. The weather that week had been particularly wet and they had been regulated to tea in the sunroom—which had been abysmal at living up to its name—when he had learned that although she knew the basic rules, Bella did not play chess. He'd gone to a shop immediately after leaving the Swan's and purchased a pretty set with carved ivory pieces and a board with inset ebony and birch.

The next visit had proved the best so far as he revived her flagging knowledge of the game.

"Who is it that taught you to play?" Edward asked, observing as Bella moved her last remaining knight instead of the bishop as he had expected.

"Hmm?" She glanced as him briefly before refocusing on the board. "My father I suppose, though we never played much and that was years ago. At this point I suppose you've taught me as much of the game as he has."

Edward surveyed the board and reconsidered his moves.

After a pause Bella asked "Why do you ask?"

Edward smiled a bit, it was rare for her to ask such open ended questions. "Oh, it's just that your strategy is so different from mine, I never seem to anticipate what your next move will be."

She scoffed. "I hardly call what I'm doing a 'strategy,' I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've played this game before now, I'm barely remembering which moves I can make, much the less plotting out some grande scheme."

Edward slide his own knight into place. She responded quickly with a move of her bishop, ignoring his knight it seemed and slipping closer to his queen.

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that. If you were playing with no plan at all I'd have beaten you long before now, I think."

"Well you always seem to manage it anyway." Bella was right, so far in their games Edward had always won in the end.

He nodded his agreement of her statement, but continued to disagree with her point. "Yes, but it always takes such a long time for me to get there. I'm usually a much quicker player."

"You are probably just overestimating the skills of a novice." Bella shrugged.

"No," Edward lightly gripped is queen, "I think you are underestimating your strategies."

He gently placed the piece into its new position, threatening Bella's remaining knight. Looking up and catching her eye, he continued. "But I think with practice I will figure them out."

*S*S*S*S*S*S

It was nearly three weeks after he began his visits that Edward showed up with a surprising gift. It was a formal invitation; the first Bella had received since the scandal, to a party at the Cullen's home. Technically the invitation was from Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, but it was hand delivered by an earnest Edward.

To say Bella was surprised was an understatement. Though the Cullen's Christmas ball was one of the biggest social events of the year, it was also the only party the family threw. She had never heard of, much less attended, any other event at their estate.

It was . . . suspicious.

Unsure of a polite way to ask her question, she settled for as direct as courtesy allowed.

"Edward," she waited until she was sure she had his undivided attention. "This ball your family is throwing, it's . . . unusual?" Directness was not her forte.

"Ah," he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Yes, a bit. But I gather there is an important announcement my parents plan to make."

When he fidgeted but did not continue she tried again.

"Concerning?"

"My sister Alice."

Bella had a sudden mental image of pulling teeth, but when Edward finally looked at her and saw her expression he relented and clarified.

"I believe Jasper Whitlock has asked for her hand."

An engagement announcement. Well, Bella thought, that did make sense. It was custom to announce and celebrate such things, though bad luck to broadcast them in advance of the formal announcement.

It did not explain entirely Edward's obvious embarrassment at sharing the news, but then she was finding out she was not a good judge of Edward's behaviors.

"Ah, I see. Are you sure I should be invited?"

At this Edward lost his embarrassment for the sudden ire of indignation. "Of course I'm sure, Bella." When she jumped slightly at his display of temper he made a constant effort to calm his words. "Alice would be very disappointed if you did not attend."

She would not be the only one.

"Will you come?" He asked before he left at the end of the visit.

Bella looked for a long moment at the envelope she had placed on the entryway side table earlier. Turning back to Edward she looked into his eyes and said, "I will."

The smile that bloomed across his face left her reeling, but it had nothing on the expression he had later that night in the privacy of his own room. He realized then that it was the first time in recent memory that she had agreed to anything with him.

He planned to make the most of the opportunity.

*S*S*S*

_Author's Note: Gee Bella, I wonder why the boy is embarrassed to invite the girl who keeps jilting him to his sister's engagement party._


	5. Going Out

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

_Author's Note: It's a little late, so sorry about that. It's also a little longer than normal, so hopefully that evens out. I would have posted on time (promise!) but my bf is quitting smoking and I was busy all day making sure he didn't cave and buy a pack. I don't know if any of you smoke or know someone who does, but nicotine addiction is pretty hard to break. Here's to hoping he'll be over the hump soon!_

**Chapter Five: Going Out**

It was to her horror that Bella realized, through the medium of her mother, that attending the Cullen's party would require a new dress. The season was changing and though she had not grown in height since the previous year, her figure had changed enough that last year's dresses were simply not appropriate.

When Renee casually mentioned over breakfast the morning after Edward's invitation that a trip to the dressmaker was in order, Bella's face had paled at the terrible realization.

She was excited about going clothes shopping.

As Renee waxed on about what length sleeve would be most appropriate, and whether that new, tufted fabric she'd seen Rosalie Hale wearing last week might be available, Bella tried to console herself with logic.

She'd been secluded in her home for weeks now. She had few visitors and almost nothing to do to pass the time. Really, a trip outside anywhere would be exciting. That it happened to be to the dressmaker's shop was inconsequential.

Out of duty to her own reputation she managed to feign indifference for the remainder of the meal. She looked appropriately pained as Renee asked for her opinion on color choice—her mother preferred red, she suggested brown—and shared her customary indulgent glance at her father as Renee ignored her suggestion almost entirely and went off on a tangent on the merits of orange.

Her play acting at normal was successful, and Renee seemed non-the-wiser as she dragged her seemingly reluctant daughter to the dressmaker.

*S*S*S*S*S*

"Mrs. Swan! Good morning, what are you . . ." old Mrs Cope trailed off as Renee stepped into the shop and Bella emerged behind her. The old woman's pleasant facial expression failed her for a moment, though she tried to cover it. "What can I do for you today?"

Bella noticed her particular emphasis on the word 'you' and cringed. This was what she had forgotten in her excitement to be out and about in town.

If Renee noticed the moment she gave no sign, her enthusiasm obvious as she answered the shopkeeper's question.

"We need a dress of course! My Bella here has a ball to attend to and absolutely nothing to wear! I'm thinking something bright, perhaps with that new fabric—"

Bella turned from her mother as the bell above the door rang.

Lauren Mallory and her mother entered. Great.

Bella busied herself looking at a dress in the window. If had ruffles, lots of ruffles, and was, in her humble opinion, hideous. Still, she fingered the lace edging and tried to look thoughtful.

Through the window she caught a glimpse of Carlisle Cullen's office and turned away.

*S*S*S*S*S*

An hour later Bella had forgotten why she had ever thought this outing might be nice. She was on a small platform near the rear of the shop, dressed in a stifling number of layers. After much debate she'd disavowed Renee of the idea she would ever, _ever_ wear an orange gown. It had taken far too much energy and a snide comment from Lauren, who was unfortunately also perched on a platform at the rear of the shop and insisted that orange was _totally_ Bella's color, to finally convince Renee.

The entire time they'd been going over dress forms and shape options Bella had been subjected to a stream of pointed comments from the Mallory's. A neckline that didn't fit correctly when she first tried it was said to be 'fitting' on Bella, but much to revealing for Lauren. Modesty, after all, was important.

It took everything in her not to snort at that statement. Of all the ways she could think to describe Lauren Mallory—vain, nasty, squinty-eyed—modest was not one that came to mind.

Bella was growing certain that once she finally got home she would stay there. No more of this venturing out nonsense.

"This color is just perfect for you dear, it really brings out your beautiful blue eyes." Mrs. Mallory was ruffling the pink lace attached to her daughter's ample chest, but her eyes slide sideways to watch Bella's reaction as she spoke.

She had really underestimated the wonderful side effects of being a social pariah. As Lauren's screechy voice grated against her skull she wondered if maybe she ought to try to increase her status.

She was already not invited to parties. Well, except for the Cullen's. She had few visitors, really only Angela Webber and the Cullens. She'd ceased to get mail, well, unless you counted the invitation hand delivered by Edward Cullen.

Darn Cullen's. They were interfering with what could be such a happy banishment.

"What do you think Mrs Cope, isn't this color just lovely on my Lauren?"

"Oh, it's beautiful dear, so flattering." Mrs Cope drew a breath in as if to keep her praises going, but the bell chiming on the door drew her attention to the front of the shop.

Bella, lost in day dreams of ostracizing herself further from the townsfolk so as to avoid moments like this, also looked up.

Straight into the eyes of Edward Cullen.

*S*S*S*S*S*

Edward was having an off day. He'd slept poorly, woken late, and nearly run into the Mallory's on his way into the office. If it hadn't been for Lauren's signature screechy, off-pitch giggling echoing loudly down the street he'd never have ducked into the general store in time to avoid being spotted.

As it stood, though he'd avoided he disaster of either Mallory woman's company, he'd been even later to work than necessary and had received for his troubles a frown from Carlisle. It was not excessive penance, he knew, but with a father like his it was enough to leave him feeling properly chastised and unreliable.

All these things combined to a general attitude of what someone other than he might have labeled 'mopey.' When Esme inquired as she visited mid-morning, he declared himself tired and then tried to look appropriately sleepy to justify his mood.

He faked one yawn and slouched a bit to drive the point home.

"Oh hello dear, what brings you in this morning?" Carlisle greeted his wife with an affectionate smile and a kiss on the cheek when he came out into the lobby and spotted her speaking with Edward.

"What, can't a woman visit her husband without ulterior motives?"

"Oh of course she can! And as a husband who knows his wife, let me guess," he winked at her, "something at Newton's?"

Esme laughed. Newton's general store was just down the street, only two stores away, and she often visited the office when she was shopping nearby.

"Close," she conceded, glancing between the two men as she flipped open a hand fan. "I'm actually here to pick up Alice's dress for the Mallory's ball. Mrs. Cope sent a note that it was finished yesterday. Oh but now I am dreading carrying all that heavy fabric in this heat."

Edward, still feeling the vague guilt of disappointing Carlisle that morning with his tardiness, sprung to his feet. "I can fetch it for you, why don't you rest here. I can be there and back before the next appointment comes in."

Esme smiled widely at him. "Oh, my sweet boy that would be wonderful."

Producing a small square of paper she handed it to him. "Just take this to Mrs. Cope, everything is already settled so all you need do is pick up the dress itself."

With a nod Edward was out the door and across the street.

It really was hot, he noticed, opening the door to the shop with one hand. His other rose to his collar to pull the material away from his throat.

A faint ringing sound echoed and announced his arrival, and following the sounds of speech and rustling fabric Edward's eyes sought the old shopkeep in the back of the room.

Only his gaze was stolen not by the pale eyes of Mrs Cope, but by the deep chocolate of Bella Swan. She was standing taller than normal and drapped in a royal blue fabric mess that brought out the pale, even color of her soft looking skin. A young girl stood on the ground behind her, fiddling with the long strings of her bodice.

Releasing his collar abruptly, Edward gulped once, his eyes roaming over the pale skin visible around all the loose edges of the blue dress. It was too big, and not fitted properly, and it showed more skin at that moment than properly intended.

With a jerk backwards that must, he realized some minutes later, have been the assistant tightening the bodice, Bella was pulled from her daze and off her feet.

With more speed than he would have thought possible—had he time to think at all—Edward crossed the shop and caught her as she fell.

One foot did not clear the platform , and so she tipped unevenly, landing heavily in his arms with her face crushed to his chest. His right arm caught her around the ribs, his arm bent so as to cradle her head against him. His left hooked lower, around her waist with his arm on the middle of her back.

It was this hand which first told him the most important fact in his current world:

His hand was touching skin. A _lot _of skin.

*S*S*S*S


	6. Swan Dive

**Title: Scandalous**

**Summary: When he asked for her hand, she refused him. Now a scandal throws her on his mercy, will he marry her or leave her to her fate? Will she let him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.**

**Chapter Six: Swan Dive**

Following Bella's graceless fall from the platform into Edward's waiting arms there was one, single, precious moment of absolute quiet. It was that particular silence of people who are not quite sure their senses are telling them the truth about what they see and hear-and in Bella and Edward's case smell and feel.

In that moment every person in the shop, Renee Swan, Mrs and Miss Mallory, old Mrs Cope, and of course Bella and Edward themselves took stock of their individual senses, verified the information relayed, and, almost simultaneously reacted.

Surprisingly it was Renee Swan who was the first to recover her wits.

"Oh Bella dear! Are you alright?"

The woman fluttered over to her daughter, still held motionless in the shocked embrace of her sometimes suitor.

Edward felt more than heard Bella take a breath. It was her first voluntary movement and it pressed her chest against his stomach. Edward felt light headed. Luckily this notion passed quickly when she followed her breath by trying to back away from him.

Muffled against him her voice peaked out.

"I'm okay," she pressed back from him again, "I'm so sorry Edward. You can . . . you can let me go now."

Edward kept his arms tight around her, refusing to move anything but his head which he turned up towards the ceiling.

"Um, no." He said eloquently, his voice strained and pitchy to his own ears. "I can't."

"What?" She shifted against him now, evidently trying to at least right herself from his slanted catch. The actions caused her dress to shift as well, and Edward knew the exact moment she caught on to their predicament. Around them the other occupants came to life, but all Edward and Bella heard was each other against an unpleasant, high pitched buzz of other people.

"Edward."

"Yes Bella."

"My dress?"

"Not where it should be."

He was positive the heat blooming against his chest was either her blush or his impending heart attack, quite possibly both. Frankly it was hard to tell for sure as she was taking quick, panicky breaths. The motion, coupled with his firm, if tense, hold on her torso had the effect of pressing her chest against him in a tantalizing rhythm.

He focused with all his might on the hard, uncomfortable edge of the corset, tried to wonder whether it was authentic boning or that new metal replacement his sister had been complaining about a few weeks earlier. He tried very hard not to notice how low that edge was, pressing into his stomach almost at his navel. Bella was shorter than him, surely, but nowhere near that short.

Eyes still held upward, it took Edward several moments to realize that the new heaving motion of soft, firm flesh against his midsection was no longer caused by Bella's erratic breathing, but by her mother's attempts to right the infernal dress to some semblance of modesty.

"Edward can you ease up just a bit? I've nearly got this sorted." Renee's voice was carefully calm, she spoke as if tending to a wild animal.

He did as she asked, willing his tense arms to release their catch. It was an awkward and twitchy movement, and one that inadvertently caused him to run his palms over the smooth skin of her back, but he slowly relaxed his hold.

Renee was quick with her movements and righted her red-faced daughter as soon as there was space to do so. In the fall, Bella had caught her foot on the overly long gown, and the force of it had torn the bodice laces in two places but not unwound them. Luckily the chemise underneath had not torn, only been pulled violently down, so that at least was available for immediate coverage. The rest sat well enough in place, though it would require some time to be wearable again.

Throughout all this Edward kept his face pointed to the ceiling. It was the only way he could be sure his eyes, though closed as extra precaution, did not light upon something they were not supposed to see.

Even when the sounds of rustling fabric had all but stopped and his arms had lost the lingering feel of Bella's warmth, Edward remained eyes shut and facing the ceiling.

Even when Renee quietly stated "Well now, you're all back together right dear?" he stayed put, just in case.

In fact, left to his own devices Edward was very much prepared to stay in his current position until all possibility of impropriety had passed. And with Bella around, that was possibly a long, long time.

But he was not left to his own devices, for somewhere in between the captivating sounds of Bella's breathing and the overwhelming thudding of his own heartbeat, or hers, perhaps, Edward had failed to really take in the words being spoken too loudly not five feet from him.

"—threw herself right at him!"

"I _know!"_

"—so brazen—"

The Mallorys. Edward had forgotten about them. Edward was jolted from his position as he turned to defend the girl now rapidly being shuffled off to the back of the shop by her mother, no doubt mortified and hearing every word.

Determined to defend her, Edward faced off against the youngest and loudest gossiper, Miss Lauren Mallory. Still on her raised platform and tied in to some monstrous ruffly pink thing that looked, to Edward, at least two sizes too small, Miss Mallory was hunched over and talking with her face very close to her mother. They were both nearly panting as they riled themselves into frenzy over what they had just seen, and Lauren was fanning herself frantically with a lace hand fan even as she talked herself breathless.

Edward cleared his throat.

Both women turned to look at him, eyes bright and cruel looking.

"Oh but of course you had nothing to do with it Mr. Cullen! I don't know how you put up with the girl!"

"She attacked you, we all saw it! Tore her dress right off and jumped right at you! Frankly I'm appalled—"

Edward had grand plans of rebutting their already twisted spin on events he certainly didn't need them to describe to _him, _and he definitely meant to cut off Lauren's rant with no regard for what was so appalling to her, but mid-sentence the thrill of such gossip—and possibly her rapid speaking coupled with her overly tight dress—overwhelmed Lauren Mallory and she fainted straight away off the dressmaker platform and directly toward Edward.

He dodged.

It wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do, and he certainly cringed when the sound of her hitting the ground echoed in his ears, but really his good breeding could only be expected to go so far.

Edward stared, shocked at himself, as Mrs. Mallory fussed over her daughter on the floor and turned her over to reveal the beginnings of what would likely become an impressively broken nose.

"Somebody get the doctor!"

Edward turned to the door, planning to fetch Carlisle himself, only to meet the clear blue eyes of an unexpected witness.

"Well, that was certainly interesting."

The woman tipped her head in imitation of a bow but did not bother to change the smirk on her face. She made no move to fetch Carlisle herself, so Edward continued toward the door, greeting her as he passed and praying her presence did not somehow manage to make this day worse.

"Edward."

"Rosalie."

*S*S*S*S

_Author's Note: Again a day late. Maybe I should just switch to Thursdays? Then again if I do that I might end up always posting on Fridays. Fyi, I'm going overseas for a couple weeks toward the end of the month (I'll be traipsing across Spain and Portugal if you're wondering) and I haven't decided how to handle posts then. My internet access will be suspect at best, so if I can finish them in time I might post those two weeks of chapters early. No promises cause I have a lot of planning stuff to do still, but honestly I usually write more when I should be doing other things._


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